


Pardon Me for Living

by grocket



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, MWPP, Marauder's Era, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-Slash, seriously don't read this if you need some happy gay fluff, we'll get there eventually, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 01:52:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11590530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grocket/pseuds/grocket
Summary: AU where homophobia and and queerness are real societal presences and not just used in cringey allegories. Sorry J.K., I know you meant well. Mostly a character study of Sirius but we all know where this is going.





	Pardon Me for Living

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! First off, I'm not writing this to fetishize gay oppression or homophobia, but rather to explore the Wizarding world's non-allegorical systems of oppression. I've always been frustrated with the way the series and the fandom handle the lack of unambiguously queer characters in the book. As magical as the world of Harry Potter is, one does not need to read closely to see sexism, racism, and homophobia. How exciting to be at Hogwarts during a time when young witches and wizards are fighting the Dark Arts, and young Muggles are fighting for equality!
> 
> Oh and probly smut. Eventually.

_**1975** _

Sirius Black was a horny bastard.

He knew this to be true because, despite their efforts at secrecy, living in a dorm with three teenage boys gave him plenty of insight into the masturbation habits of his peers. Bed curtains were only so soundproof, and often the magical abilities of fifth years were still not sophisticated enough to maintain self-silencing or sound-proofing charms throughout. After three or so years, Sirius Black felt confident that his sex drive was abnormal.

He was the only one to have mastered the self-silencing charm enough to allow him to climax without biting his pillow, though he wasn’t proud of it. It was possible Moony had as well; Sirius had never heard the telltale rustling and panting from the werewolf’s bed. It was also possible that Moony didn’t touch himself at all. The kid was weird like that. 

In addition to his excessive masturbation habits, Sirius was the only member of the Marauders to have any real sex life. Peter was often besotted with girls way out of his league, though no conquest seemed as unlikely as James’ obsession with Lily Evans. Sirius alone was familiar with the favorite dark corners and hidden alcoves frequented by the more amorous Hogwarts couples. 

Just tonight, Claudia Mangel, a enthusiastic yet untalented Hufflepuff, had rubbed is dick through his robes behind the tapestry depicting an especially grisly scene of some Goblin war. The torchlight filtering through the disproportionate amount of red thread had cast an unflattering glow on her already ruddy complexion and Sirius had invented a Potions paper he should really get back to writing. Some compliment and his most charming smile had tempered her disappointment and he’d fled.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably in his four-poster bed. He knew sleep would evade him until he had ejaculated unceremoniously into one of his socks. Then it would join the pile under the bed, gradually cementing itself to the floor. Sirius grimaced at the thought.

It was truly unfair and so very undignified, he thought, rolling onto his side. Though they were only house-elves, Sirius couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt at the weekly pile of freshly laundered socks that appeared at the end of his bed. He didn’t envy the wretched things that task. Only Kreacher deserved that kind of humiliation.

He lifted his curtain to stare at the faint glow of light emitting from Moony’s four-poster. Sirius was sure the quiet boy never lay awake, tormented by his indefatigable teenage lust. Sirius was prone to self-pity (he was certainly indulging in some right now) but, despite so many more hardships and disadvantages, the young werewolf was hardworking and humble.

Really, it was somewhat frustrating, it occurred to him. Remus was unflappable. Even with his prefect duties, the agonies of the monthly transformation, and his consuming anxiety about anyone discovering his secret, Moony maintained his serene composure. He was always kind to Peter, and tried to dissuade the James and Sirius from their more dangerous or cruel antics.

Sirius rolled back onto his back and shoved his hand into his pajamas. Not everyone could be as saintly as Moony. He wondered if his friend would judge him for this near-nightly ritual. His strokes were rough but efficient, wanting this humiliation to be over with after his unsatisfying rendezvous with Claudia. Moony probably wouldn’t agree with that either. _“Sirius,”_ he’d say, his voice a soft mixture of fondness and contempt, _“you shouldn’t lead them on like that. Girls get so attached to you._  

_Yeah, well, it’s not like I slip love potion in their pumpkin juices. Can’t help how naturally charming I am to the ladies,_ Sirius thought, increasing his speed. Moony would smile his exasperated smile at that, the twinkle in his eyes betraying the firmer line of his mouth. 

Hold on - _twinkle?_ Since when did Moony have _twinkling_ eyes? He was Sirius’ mate, not some character in some parchment-bound romance novel for randy old witches. He was a _bloke,_ why was Sirius even thinking about a bloke with his prick in his hand? He tried to focus on Claudia, ignoring her flushed face and concentrating on her breasts… no, her hands… no, he couldn’t stop hearing those obnoxious breathy moans. 

Sirius was getting less turned on as he furiously jerked his hand up and down his shaft. He stopped to spit on his palm and remembered he hadn’t cast his silencing charm. Sitting up, he used his saliva-free palm to grab to reach for his wand and once again gazed at the shadow formed by Moony’s _Lumos._

Abandoning the thoughts of Claudia, Sirius let his mind wander. Nebulous forms with long fingers and rough mouths took over the efforts of his hand and soon he was crying out, his voice silenced by his own magic.

 

* * *

 

On their way to potions, the Marauders minus Remus covertly discussed last night’s moonlit escapades.

“You guys shouldn’t have gone swimming in the lake,” whined Peter. “I almost got eaten by an owl!”

“That would have been a tragedy, dear Wormy. I reckon you taste disgusting,” Sirius replied with a grin.

“I think I kicked the squid with my hoof,” James said as he slid into his usual seat, openly looking around the classroom for Lily.

“Who would win in a fight, our Moony in his snarliest glory or the giant squid?” Sirius wondered aloud, sitting down next to James.

Peter leaned forward from the table he usually shared with Moony to whisper to his friends. “You know Moony will be furious if you try to make that happen, Padfoot! And if you leave me on the shore again I’ll tell him!”

“All right Worms, don’t get your tail in a twist,” sighed Sirius, and McGonagall called their attention to the front of the class.

The Marauders did poorly in Transfiguration. Without Remus’s insistence to practice the night before, and with his absence not focusing the remaining trio, the entire class was surprised McGonagall did not eject them from the classroom. After threatening to ban James from the remaining Quidditch matches of the year for playing with his miniature figurine of Javas Mangal, the seeker of last year’s world cup champions, MacGonagall set them to vanishing toads.

“I think mine’s getting fuzzy around the edges,” said Peter, peering at his toad.

“I think your brain is a bit fuzzy ‘round the edges, mate,” James joked, though his concentration was entirely on maintaining the altitude of his hair and oggling Lily.

Sirius leaned back in his chair. Really, things were getting unbearably dull around here. Usually the thrill of the full moon would carry his spirits for at least few days. Once Moony was back from the hospital wing, they would recount their adventures. It was always fun watching Moony admonish them for their recklessness, his apparent gratitude and happiness invalidating every word. 

“Black! Pettigrew! Potter! Is _this_ what you have to show for twenty minutes of practice?" 

Sirius peered at the three extremely corporeal frogs, not needing to feign his customary air of disinterest. Yelled at by MacGonagall again. How very _boring._

“If you three put half the effort you do into inflating your own egos into disappearing your frogs you’d be top of the class! Gentleman, please. Get to work.”

A particularly smug Ravenclaw leaned over toward James and Sirius’ desk. “Not so smart without your poof prefect, are you?”

“You’re a bloody poof, Smith!” Sirius exclaimed, just as James asserted, “I’ll show _you_ a poof!” raising his wand.

James’ spell, intending to cause an explosion of black smoke, had the misfortune of hitting Jerob Smith’s nearly invisible toad. Sirius, James, Jerob, and Peter were hit with a shower of vanished amphibian innards.

Before Smith could retaliate, looking all the more enraged with his singed-off eyebrows, MacGonagall intervened.

“Potter! Black! Detention, this Saturday night! How dare you attack another student _in my classroom!”_ Even Sirius had to admit, his head of house was formidable when angry. He looked down, attempting to appear chastised. Maybe if he were convincing she wouldn’t…

“And _fifty_ points from Gryffindor!" 

“But professor,” implored Sirius, “we were only defending our dear Moony! Smith called him a… erm…”

“I imagine it cannot be too grievous an insult if you cannot even remember it! Now both of you, out! I will speak with you after class to assign your detention.”

James and Sirius gathered their belongings, abandoning their toads. As they sat down on the bench outside of Transfiguration they had often been exiled to, James said, “What _did_ that git call moony? A puffy prefect?”

“No idea, Prongs. Nice work exploding the frog, though.”

 


End file.
